


If Santa Had a Harley

by Peruvian Gypsy (Cat_Moon)



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 08:46:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19331146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Peruvian%20Gypsy
Summary: Jim and Blair celebrate a special Christmas together





	If Santa Had a Harley

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 1996 and originally printed in the zine, "Beefstick and Lambchop."

Jim slipped the key into the lock of his front door, wondering if Sandburg was home from his errands yet. Listening could have told him, but sometimes he liked to forget, just for awhile, that he wasn't like everyone else. Lately, it had been almost easy to do. The past few days had been amazingly quiet for the police officer; Blair was on vacation, and he'd declared a moratorium on his sometimes annoying Sentinel experiments for the holidays. All this gave the friends a more than usual amount of time to spend together -- not necessarily doing anything important, that is, if you could count just hanging out together as unimportant.

Jim didn't.

The first thing he saw as he let himself in and threw the keys down on the table was something very large and green, with multicolored lights winking in friendly greeting.

"Sandburg, what is this?" he asked, not sure if he was happy with the results of the mysterious "errands" or not. It wasn't like the place wasn't already decorated. He had a tasteful holly centerpiece on the table, and a nice wreath on the door he'd bought to help benefit the Cascade Children's Center.

"What's it look like?" Blair answered, most of his attention staying on the ornaments he was placing with careful consideration. "It's a Christmas tree."

"I thought you were Jewish," he commented offhandedly, coming closer for a better look.

"I am. I'm also Hindu, and Buddhist, and Pagan -- and when it comes to getting lots and lots of presents -- definitely Christian," Blair said with one of the impish smiles Jim secretly found so endearing.

"Guess it doesn't hurt to cover all bets," Jim observed with a smirk.

"Here, help me with this." Blair handed him some ornaments, which he dutifully began to put up. His roommate brushed past him just long enough to flip on the stereo, and then the sounds of holiday music completed the ambiance of the evening.

Helping Blair with the task, he couldn't help wondering if there was any area of the kid's life that wasn't highlighted by eclectic tastes. He'd been partying for nearly the whole month. Out every night for eight nights, celebrating Hanukkah with some Jewish friends. He'd gone away with Naomi to take part in an ancient Pagan Solstice ritual on the 21st. It looked like Christmas was to be Jim's.

Feeling an obligation to protest more, Jim continued. "So much for the fact that the meaning of Christmas has been warped all out of proportion by--"

Blair interrupted his attempted tirade. "I hope you're not gonna start in about the excessive commercialism overshadowing the more important messages."

"Actually, I was gonna mention the euphoric sentimentalism of the season, Starsk."

"Huh?" Blair turned an uncomprehending gaze on him.

"Starsky and Hutch?" Continued blank stare. "TV cop show?"

Blair shrugged. "Never heard of it."

Feeling old, Jim grumbled, "The reruns are still around." In fact, the particular episode he'd borrowed the phrase from had just been aired on a local Cascade station a week ago. But he belatedly remembered that Blair hadn't been home at the time.

"Never watched much TV. Too busy."

Speaking of watching, Jim abandoned the decorating in favor of watching Blair, hanging the ornaments while moving to the beat of Jingle Bell Rock. His enthusiasm was often contagious, although Jim went to great pains to hide that fact from his partner. He was also a magnet -- for just about everything from trouble to... Any light in the vicinity always seemed to immediately seek him out, framing his face and weaving through his curly hair as if irresistibly drawn by some unknown force. Tonight it was the multi-colored Christmas lights, the bright twinkling Jim could see reflected in his partner's blue eyes.

Not liking the direction his thoughts were taking, Jim gave in to the need to change his mood. It was a battle he was fighting and losing more than often lately. "Well," he sighed, "at least it's not purple or pink or..."

"Mom had a nice white tree one year. We decorated it all in frosted, glittery, and silver ornaments and strings of red lights. It was beautiful."

"Sounds nice," Jim said low and carefully, not wanting to break the rare spell that had Blair sharing a part of his past.

"I used to lay under the tree and look up into its branches. It was like some enchanted wonderland or something. I'd lay there for hours, but I'd be a thousand miles away, in a special place."

Jim shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Blair's enthusiasm was only surpassed by his imagination. It had come in handy on more than one occasion...and it was that imagination that had led him to Jim. It was an uncomfortably disturbing thought, out of nowhere, turning the smile to a slight frown as he pondered the implications.

Before he knew it they were finished with the tree. While Blair disappeared into the kitchen, Jim sat down on the couch and admired their handiwork. He had to admit, the softly glowing lights and tree gave the loft a nice warm, inviting atmosphere.

Soon Blair joined Jim on the couch, handing him a glass of what looked and smelled like eggnog. Well, mostly. Tasted mostly like it, too. What bothered Jim was that he couldn't identify the difference. "This isn't just eggnog?"

"Well, it's got some added ingredients," Blair admitted to Jim's groan. But he decided not to bother asking. He was starting to feel way too mellow, and as long as it tasted good, who cared what was in it? He could trust Blair, it wouldn't be anything dangerous or illegal.

It was turning out to be a damn fine Christmas Eve, and Jim decided to be magnanimous and hold off complaining again -- at least for a little while.

 

* * *

 

The night passed pleasantly. The soft music, light from the tree, good company. Jim felt himself relax in one of those rare times of complete contentment. This was the way this night ought to be spent -- peacefully, with someone who meant the most to you.

That thought brought him up short, as it usually did. It hadn't been all that long since he'd first been able to admit it to himself, and he was far from used to it. It wasn't the feelings themselves so much, but the _depth_ of them, to them, that he was having the most trouble with. Tiptoeing around it seemed the safest way to go...but it felt too good to deny, at least in his most private moments. No one had ever gotten under his skin the way Blair had. So fast...so completely. _Why_ just might turn out to be one of the great mysteries of the universe.

Or maybe they were just destined to be together. The Sentinel and his Guide.

_Whoa_! Jim mentally put on the brakes and backpedaled until he was on safer ground again. Something was definitely getting to him, he usually never let his thoughts stray that far. He wished he could say it was sentimentality of the season, or something Blair had put in the nog. But he knew better. Kicking himself firmly back to his surroundings again, he found Blair watching him.

"We can go visit some friends or something if you want," he said quietly, as if he'd said it only for Jim's benefit.

Jim shook his head and on impulse, decided to throw the kid a bone. "This is perfect just the way it is." The grin he received made him glad of his decision.

"Oh--" Blair exclaimed as if just remembering something and jumped up, retrieving a gaily wrapped package from under the tree. "I think it's just about time for this." He handed the present to Jim.

Jim stared down at it, wondering why just the sight of the small box should move him so. "Isn't this supposed to be done in the morning?"

"Nah, that's for kids. Go ahead, open it." Blair waited, looking torn between expectancy and uncertainty.

Jim stopped staring and removed the shiny paper. A white box. Inside, nestled in a strange bed of something that looked like dried herbs, cotton, and twigs, and didn't smell like anything he was familiar with at all, was a small black onyx panther suspended from a silver chain. He cradled the cat in his hand, looking up at Blair.

"It's sort of a good luck charm, or a talisman. Too help keep you safe and aid you in using your senses successfully." Blair hurried on, seeming slightly embarrassed. "There's also a rune painted on the bottom."

Jim turned it over and sure enough, on the bottom of the cat's belly--surely too small to be made out in detail by anyone except Jim--was a symbol. It looked like two X's, one on top of the other.

"That's the rune ING," Blair explained. "It's one of the most positive runes; it symbolizes success, an event that's a milestone in your life -- or the ending of an old phase of life and beginning of a new. Kind of like your rebirth as a Sentinel."

"It's...beautiful. Thank you," Jim murmured, slipping it around his neck, unsure how to deal with expressing his appreciation. It was a thoughtful and special gift.

Blair shrugged it away, but Jim could tell he was pleased his gift had been well received. "I just thought it would be appropriate. Maybe..." he shrugged again, "you know, if I'm not around and you're in a tight spot, knowing it's there will help you focus, remember everything we've gone over."

"I'm sure it'll help," Jim said, then almost reluctant about the admission, added, "but if I'm in a tight spot, I'd still prefer not to be without my partner." _The hell with it_ he decided _. It's Christmas_. "What's this stuff, anyway?" he asked, gratefully changing the subject to the strange bed of pseudo straw in the box.

"Mug wort"

"Mug wort?" There was one he hadn't heard of, with a name that made him want to laugh. "What's that, a wart on someone's face?"

Blair ignored the joke. "It's a good protection herb."

"So this is what you were up to with Naomi and those new-agers?"

"Pagans aren't exactly new agers, Jim. They're old -- way old agers. Yeah, there's some intermingling of beliefs and practices, but many new age tenets are modern, while Pagan worship pre-dates Christianity. In fact--" he took a breath to continue.

"Did you dance among the trees naked?" Jim teased, to interrupt the building tangent.

"If I'da known you were so interested I would've brought pictures," Blair quipped right back, unnerving an already out of balance Jim.

"Uh -- here's yours," he said quickly, picking up an envelope.

He watched Blair open it, torn as to his next move. Inside was a dignified and simple -- definitely not mushy -- card. Nothing else.

Suddenly unable to stand the thought of teasing Blair as he'd planned, not wanting to see the look of disappointment on the expressive face, he hurried on. "Your present is outside." He'd intended on waiting until Blair was asleep, sneaking it into the living room and watching his reaction when he awoke the next morning.

"Huh?"

"C'mon, let's go."

He got up, a puzzled Blair following as he grabbed his coat and went downstairs.

It wasn't exactly a white Christmas, but a very thin layer of snow dust covered the ground. Somewhere in the distance Jim could hear carolers singing. It was after ten and few cars went by on the street, making it otherwise pretty quiet as long as he kept his hearing turned down to an approximation of normal. Herding Blair to the street, he stopped and let him figure out the rest for himself.

There, at the curb in front of Jim's truck, was a gleaming red motorcycle with a huge red bow around it.

It was Blair's turn to stare. "This is _mine_??" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah well, since your car went to junkyard heaven and you're always needing a ride somewhere," he began gruffly.

Blair walked closer, almost as if he expected it to suddenly vanish, putting out a hand to touch the cold metal.

Jim's voice continued, but more softly, affected by the reverent way Blair caressed the bike. "It's a classic Indian -- otherwise known as a Chief. A lot of people think these were the best bikes ever made."

"A Chief, huh?" Blair repeated with a delighted smile.

"Of course this weather isn't good for riding, but it should be great when spring comes." He went on about bike safety, and laid down the law concerning the wearing of a helmet -- but Blair was still stroking the bike in awe, and his eyes when he looked at Jim were open and warm. Feelings welled up inside him that he couldn't suppress.

"This is great Jim. Thanks."

"Just don't make me regret it," he blustered menacingly. Well, he thought it was menacing -- but Blair's laughter ringing through the night air told him he might have been mistaken.

"Thanks, man," Blair repeated, and hugged him right there on the sidewalk.

Jim could feel his body heat through the coat, a welcome contrast to the chilly air swirling around them in eddies only he could discern. He didn't want to let go. In fact, he was mildly stunned when he realized it was Blair who'd had to be the one to pull away first. How long had they been standing there that way?

He rubbed his hands together as if to warm them. "Well, ah, let's get this bike out of the elements, and get inside where it's warm."

"What, you got me this great bike and you're not even gonna let me take it out for a drive?"

"It's late and it's cold."

"It's only ten thirty and I'm not cold."

Faced with the little-kid-with-a-new-toy expression on Blair's face, Jim had no choice but to capitulate. "Make it a short one -- and be careful!"

Blair was already handing him the bow, sitting astride the bike and donning his helmet. "I'll have you know, I'm a great driver -- which you might find out if you ever let me drive." He held out his hands for the keys, which Jim dropped into his palm.

"You _have_ ridden one of these things before, right?" Jim thought, belatedly, to check. He'd been planning on asking in the safety of his living room, teaching Blair if it turned out he didn't.

"Wheels, pedals, what's the difference?" he heard Blair mumble wickedly before gunning the engine and disappearing down the street.

"Wise ass," Jim muttered after him.

Neither one of them had mentioned the car jackings where Blair had proven his ability to handle just about anything with wheels, and often more skillfully than Jim. It was just part of their familiar banter. Needed desperately right now, for Jim felt decidedly off his usual stride.

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, Blair _had_ made it a short trip. Together they'd gotten the bike under cover, then gone inside to warm up. Blair sat down to check his e-mail, while Jim had gone in to take a shower.

Jim came out of the bathroom wrapped tightly in his robe, debating on whether to change into clothes or stay this way, a way that made him feel more exposed than he should. Things like this had ever bothered him in the past.

But a glass of wine, a nightcap, beckoned him from the coffee table. Blair was sitting on the couch, his hair now tied back. His glasses lay on the table by the laptop. Jim made a spontaneous decision to live dangerously. He sat down beside Blair and picked up the glass of wine.

"Darryl e-mailed," Blair told him. "They want us to stop by for drinks tomorrow night."

Jim smiled. "Looks like he's really enjoying that new computer. Anything else I should know about?"

"Nope."

A companionable silence reigned as Jim let the warmth of the wine spread through him. After that, and the good night, and the hot shower -- if he was any more relaxed he'd be jello. It could have been a poor analogy...or not.

Then Blair broke the silence unexpectedly. "They were lovers, you know."

Jim stared at him, nonplussed. "Who?"

"Starsky and Hutch."

He blinked. "What?! Who said?"

"The stories I downloaded from the web while you were showering. I got curious when you mentioned them so I decided to find out who you were talking about."

Jim realized his mouth was open, and closed it. It was rare when he got tongue-tied around Blair, but he had no idea how to respond to that little tidbit.

Blair shrugged, apparently dismissing the entire subject with his final comment. "Cute couple."

Now paranoia was creeping slowly, inexorably through him. What had Blair meant by that supposedly offhand declaration? Could he know of the secret feelings Jim was grappling with? Or was it a hint of his own? Or, was he reading too much into an innocent discovery?

And how should he respond? If it _was_ an opening, what if he ignored it? What if he didn't... What if.

The moment was slipping away, propelled by the incessant movement of time. Jim watched Blair surreptitiously, greedily soaking up an image he'd come to long for constantly. Sitting so close, his long-sleeved shirt pushed up to the elbows, the buttons in front unbuttoned just far enough to reveal a tantalizing sample of the furry chest beneath. Jim could easily pick out the colorful reflection of the tree in the gold of the earring hanging from an ear that begged to be licked. He wanted to reach out, loosen the wild curls from their imprisonment.

Suddenly he felt _really_ silly sitting there in just his robe.

"Ah...is it hot in here?"

"It feels just fine to me," Blair said slowly.

Jim chastised himself. Now he was even reading things into _that_ completely normal remark. He played absently with the panther at his neck as he struggled with his thoughts. The gift seemed so much more intimate now, laying there against naked, freshly washed skin, nothing but a robe to compliment it.

If it had just been simple lust, there would've been no hesitation needed or given. A question, an answer. Either turn his attentions elsewhere or happily take Blair up to his bed and screw until they both passed out from exhaustion. But this situation was incredibly more complicated. The strange part was his heart didn't want it any other way. The man who never let anyone get close had let his guard slip for one irrevocable, colossal moment.

And Blair, sitting there looking innocent, had no idea... or did he?

Jim focused on the background music Blair was playing, seeking a distraction from his thoughts. It proved to be much less distraction than he'd hoped, as the words caught him and held tight...

 

* _Cozy we are, closer than far_

_sounds of forever still around_

_lovers in love, just like we were_

_Cause being apart's a lonely sound_

_And when people ask how we stay together_

_I say you never let me down..._

 

He looked up -- into endless blue eyes fixed directly on his. "Have I ever? Let you down?" Blair said.

The smile was spontaneous, genuine and full. "Never."

"I won't, you know."

The solemn vow held a wealth of meaning Jim stopped trying to purposely misread. If he let them, they could be in such perfect sync. He could feel it.

 

* _Look at the sun shining on me_

_nowhere could be a better place_

_lovers in love, yeah, that's what we'll be_

_when you're here with me it's Christmas day..._

 

Midnight came and went, the minutes uncounted. Jim couldn't look away...there was nowhere to hide from those eyes, that smile. So much communication without words; it was almost frightening. He felt himself going down, drowning in the presence beside him, and this time the urge to fight was nearly gone.

"Is it right?" _This? For us?_ A test of his theory, would Blair understand what he was saying, or was it all in his imagination?

Blair nodded, the barest motion of head that Jim saw and felt. Well, Blair was usually right about things. They'd always gotten through, together, and he'd never regretted listening to his "guide."

_Jim, I'm your *partner*_ Words from more than one case floated back to him on the winds of time, said so vehemently when he would seek to push him away, as if trying desperately to convince the stubborn Sentinel of their meaning, of their importance. _You need me._

So true.

_I won't let you down..._

Eyes that begged for trust, picking up where the song left off. The simplicity of it hit Jim full force, stunning him. Their first month together he'd stood behind his trust in Blair when Simon wanted to cut him loose. He trusted Blair to watch his back, with his life and friendship. And even if his instincts could've led him astray, his destiny hadn't. He might not want to believe in the strange things that had been happening to him -- but Blair had been led to him, _just_ at the time his senses, dormant since returning from Peru five years earlier, had returned. The timing didn't escape his notice. And now, they would go forward. Together. In every way.

 

* _You make it feel like Christmas, even when things go wrong_

_I hear the sound of Christmas in your song, all year long_.

 

Jim watched his hand finally reach out across the space that separated them, barely shaking, undoing the tie that held his partner's hair back. It fell forward to once again caress his face.

"I know," Jim said, to everything. His hand moved again, cupping a cheek, bringing that face closer. Now he could sense all the things he'd been afraid to let himself look for before: the rapid beating of a heart, telltale nuances in respiration, body heat rising.

An overwhelming urge to feel more of Blair caught him almost unawares, replacing his earlier leisure. At the touch of lips someone moaned. He felt it reverberate through his whole body as though they both had made the one sound. Their mouths opened and the kiss deepened. Pleasure rang through his blood like piercingly sharp notes from a musical instrument.

His free hand joined its mate, capturing the other side of Blair's face, holding him suspended there while his mouth and tongue explored freely. He could peripherally feel Blair's hands moving, opening his robe and stroking his chest, but every touch was blended together, those he gave and those he got, until he really couldn't tell them apart anymore. Not without attention he wasn't willing to pay to details. The last thing he wanted to do was zone out. Blair would never let him hear the end of it. Instead, he just let every sense combine until he was focusing on the total experience.

The act of loving Blair was starting to take on annoying "experiment" type connotations. He growled, determined to temporarily banish his special abilities and enjoy this as any man would; it turned into a moan as incredibly skillful hands wrapped around him and slid down his length.

"This is not a one way street, Chief," he reminded, impatient with the inequality in their state of dress.

Blair got to his knees on the chair, letting Jim reach out and undo the front of his pants. Hands on Jim's shoulders, he lifted his right leg over until he was straddling Jim's lap on his knees, ass resting lightly on Jim's thighs. Jim's cock was trapped between their bodies, rubbing against the cloth of Blair's pants when he moved. He resisted the urge to increase the sensation, he was enjoying it too much to have it end so soon.

As Jim grabbed the shirt, Blair raised his arms up, allowing him to lift it up and off, slowly, so as to enjoy the gradual revealing of the flat stomach, muscular chest and pecs. Not as heavily muscled as Jim himself, but delightfully and unequivocally male. Jim had never been more glad he was bisexual than at that moment.

He tossed the shirt vaguely in the direction of Blair's room, and, grinning at him, slid both hands up the front of him, fingers flicking over firm nipples.

Blair sighed, long and low. It was the sexiest sound Jim had ever heard. He leaned down, hair brushing Jim's shoulders, and they became involved in another long kiss.

Jim reached around and tugged Blair's pants down as far as they would go, glad for the invention of baggy pants. Blair raised up to help. They would go no further than the beginning of his upper thighs, but that was far enough to free the waiting erection. He watched Blair's face react to each movement. He was getting neck strain from looking up for so long, and couldn't help wondering if Blair was doing it on purpose in some sort of teasing revenge.

He paused to take a long look at this incredible, golden being over him. Hands resting on Jim's shoulders, looking wanton and sexy, chest heaving with each breath. Jim took hold of his biceps, then traveled his hands up over the solid shoulders, down the smooth back all the way to his ass. They slid under and lingered there. Blair had automatically shifted to adjust to every move.

"How long have we wanted to do this?" Jim asked, a question more exasperated and rhetorical than serious.

"Awhile, I think," Blair answered, his voice breathless with desire.

The pleasure was getting too intense to put off completion much longer. His approach becoming more insistent, Jim pulled Blair forward so that their cocks came into solid contact. Time to get down to serious business. He leaned forward and let his tongue roam over the chest in front of him, giving more attention to the hard nipples begging for his ministrations. His hands were not inclined to leave their place under Blair's ass, so he just used them to lift and shift the body on top of him. Blair quickly caught on and began rocking in Jim's lap. They both enjoyed that particular sensation until the desire for more was too strong to resist. Keeping one hand on Jim's shoulder for better balance, Blair took both of their erections in his hand.

Jim tried to arch up, almost abandoning his hold on the soft mounds in his need for further stimulation. "More," he rasped in a voice that was more commanding than he'd intended. Blair obeyed instantly, tightening his hold on the organs, making them both moan. Sweat was running down his body, glistening in the low light. Jim inhaled deeply, smelling musk and sex and sweat -- and nearly lost it. He fought to keep his tenuous hold on reality, casting around for something to take his mind off sensations that were threatening to overwhelm him.

His hands had been busy kneading, caressing. Now, he parted the cheeks and carefully slid an experimental finger inside. The effect was instantaneous. Blair's eyes opened wide and his head fell back. "Oh god," he whispered fiercely.

Jim could feel the building in both of them. He closed his eyes and let himself feel, opened up the gates wider. Blair was nearly there, he could tell by the changes in breathing and sounds and movement. His hand on them picked up its pace increasingly as he neared the edge. Jim opened his eyes again but that particular sense was no longer working. Sightless, he rode the waves with Blair.

Unexpectedly it was Blair who came first, beating Jim by several heartbeats. All he had to do was _feel_ the warm semen hitting the skin of his stomach, seeming to soak into his pores right down to his soul. There was an incredible flash of white-hot pleasure, then a long moment of complete nothingness. No sound, light, feeling, smell.

Then it all came back. The living room, colors and sights somehow brighter than they'd been before. Sounds, clearer and sharper. Blair lifted up slightly, and he eased his finger out, pulling Blair's lower body back down to rest on him, heavily this time.

Their eyes met for the first time since everything changed. Amazingly, there was still desire smoldering in those eyes. Or was it longing? Or love? Was there a question in their depths?

"Yes," Jim answered easily. "I do." Too soon yet, to say the "L" word out loud. But he promised himself he'd learn, wouldn't let this be a repeat of past mistakes. He brought the precious face closer, claimed another kiss, to seal the act they'd just committed.

Then, he divested his lover of every piece of clothing he still wore, dropped his own mostly-off robe where it fell, and took Blair upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Jim woke slowly, feeling better than he could remember feeling in a very long time. The memory of why brought a smile to his face that turned into a frown when he realized he was alone in bed. Blair's warmth remained beside him, inside him, but it wasn't good enough.

It was still dark outside, a glance at the clock showed he'd only been asleep a few hours. Knowing instinctively where his lover was, he got up and padded down the stairs quietly. He found Blair exactly where he expected to, laying partially under the tree, staring up into its colorful branches.

Sidestepping various pieces of clothing, Jim made his way over and eased himself down next to Blair. In a moment of inconsequential insight, he realized why Blair hadn't put any decorations on the bottom branches. He'd made sure there would be enough room.

"Hey little boy," he whispered, "how is Santa gonna come if you're still up, laying down here?"

"Santa's already come several times, I've gotten lots of presents, and I couldn't get it up again tonight if my life depended on it."

"And have you been naughty or nice?" Jim asked, enjoying the game.

"Nicely naughty, I hope," Blair responded with an impish grin.

"Amen," Jim said fervently, the image of his Christmas elf swaying above him on the couch still vivid in his mind. The tree was pretty, he couldn't deny. But he preferred the other view, the one of Blair, naked skin glistening, bathed in Christmas lights.

"Do you mind sharing your enchanted wonderland with me?"

Blair turned his head towards Jim. "Enchanted wonderlands have recently paled by comparison. The only place I wanna be now is here. With you."

Jim nodded his head, deeply moved. Wishing he wasn't so susceptible to Blair's charms and glad of it, both at the same time. "Good, we're in agreement."

"Aren't we always?" Blair said brightly.

Instead of replying, Jim kissed him.

And then kissed him again.

Despite Blair's prediction to the contrary, more gifts were exchanged that morning. To be appreciated, like the giver, all year round.

 

the end

 

© 12/11/96

*"You Make It Feel Like Christmas," by Neil Diamond

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
